


Bail Me Out [Again]

by orphan_account



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, Fluff, M/M, smut later?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-03 11:20:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU -- David & Killian's words are often sharp and harsh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bail Me Out [Again]

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: I kind of adore reading comments on this piece, so thank you for anyone who has taken the time! it really helps me focus on getting some actual chapters out. 
> 
> This was written very early in the morning, so I apologize for any mistakes. This will either be a lot of drabble or a continuous story [or anything in between]. Requests are encouraged, but may not always be filled depending on content.

"You said you wouldn't do this again." David paced angrily in front of the counter, running a hand through his hair -- every inch of his body said 'stressed' and 'overworked'. So Killian did feel a little bad about that; it wasn't for his lack of effort, people just pissed him off. A lot. All the time. 

"You're right, you're right...I _promise_ not to do it again," Killian said with an exaggerated flourish of his hand, sarcasm dripping from his voice before standing. The officers hadn't cuffed him; missing a hand was a bit of a fortunate turn of events. It was one of the few times he really got to say as much, but one thing he hadn't missed was chaffing wrists.

"Let's just head back...," David spoke quickly and lowly as he ushered Killian out the door. He made a sound of utter exasperation, clearly not letting the matter go before continuing his tirade on the street.

"...that's what you said last time." Killian knew David had been trying not to say it, and he knew what he was addressing despite the pausing seconds in between. 'I promise...', the fact of the matter was that the words were for soothing rather than a substantial promise. "And the time before that and the time before that."

"And I'll say it next time and the time after that." Killian didn't look back, instead looking quickly both ways before crossing the street. Their apartment wasn't far off; he wondered if David had chosen it on purpose. Had he known what he was getting into back then, or was he just ask clueless as he appeared every time he came to pick Killian up from their small town's station? Which was often, let us not imagine.

"This has to stop -- who seriously gets into bar fights, anyway?"

"I do," Killian finally stopped and turned, "and, love, you should be used to it by now, don't you think?" He pushed at David's chest, a slightly annoyed expression painted across his face, before he turned and began striding again. He rubbed animatedly at this left arm for warmth, all the while tucking as much of it as possible into his right armpit. It was chilly -- more like frigid, really -- and the only jacket he'd had on him had been left behind at the bar, which left him in an old t-shirt and nothing else. There was a sigh from behind him.

"Here."

Killian turned, realizing that David was next to him suddenly instead of trailing behind him. He had taken off his jacket and was offering it to him -- he fared better because he had been sensible enough to wear long sleeves under his jacket. The annoyance in David's features seemed to have dissipated, which Killian was overly glad for. Annoyance was what he was used to at this point.

"While the sentiment _isn't_ missed--"

"Just put it on, stop being difficult."

Killian paused, seemed to think on it a moment before deciding that yes, he was definitely cold enough. He shrugged, sighing as he slipped his arms into the sleeves, instantly feeling better. The warmth from David clung to the fabric, and his shivering stopped almost immediately. He reached over and pulled David off-balance by the base of his neck, smiling a quick kiss into his temple.

"Oof!" David called out in surprise before steadying himself and laughing lightly, "I completely understand why the women I used to date hated when I didn't shave." He grimaced, rubbing at his temple.

"I like you a little rough around the edges -- more fun." Killian grinned over at David before they finally made it to the entrance of their apartment building.

"That doesn't make me feel any better coming from the man who likes getting into bar fights."

"Mmmm, well. I love you."

David looked surprised, pausing through rifling for his keys.

"Yes, well..unfortunately, I love you too," he shook his head as he finally got the door open.


	2. Oh Captain My Captain Hook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU -- Nolan & Jones' first meeting; of course there's a bar fight.

“You know as well as I that things haven’t been great, David.” She looked upset, but David knew better than to try and comfort her at the moment. She needed him to listen right now, listen and understand. No actions that could make any of it harder.

“Please, I know we can make this work. Just give it a little time, and…I’ll change, I’ll be whoever you want me to be.”

“David, you’re fine as you are – it’s just…it’s just us. We don’t fit anymore. What happened to settling down? Getting a…,” she paused, and her voice grew quieter, “getting a _real_ job?”

David knew she wasn’t saying it with malice. His father before him had owned the bar and passed it down. He loved every wooden inch of it, splinters and all.

“These late hours, every night all the time…living above a bar? I just can’t do this anymore, David.“

She was right, of course.

“Yeah, yeah I know. I--,” David cut off mid-sentence. There was nothing more to add. She had made up her mind; he had felt the cracks for a while now and perhaps had just been too stubborn to see them.

“So-so what? Are you going to move out?”

“Yeah, I’ve already got a place lined up with my cousin Emma.” She peered at him with concern, reaching a hand up to rub at his shoulder. “David, I’m so sorry.” And suddenly there was a gaping void between them, and if he looked down, he wouldn't be able to see the bottom. He didn’t look down and instead met her gaze.

“No, I understand…” He felt bruised as she walked by him, heading back up to the apartment to gather her things. He swung himself into the nearest bar stool, leaning his face into his hands. It felt like the ground had shattered beneath him, and he wouldn’t have even minded if it had just opened up and devoured him whole. He felt empty and cold.

He stood quickly and suddenly, grabbing his keys and heading out the door. A long walk, he needed a long walk to clear his mind. And just maybe when he got back, she would already be gone and he wouldn’t have to say goodbye, at least not for now.

He went around the small town twice over; he must have been walking for three hours, maybe longer. The streetlights had already been turning on when he’d left, so it must have been around nine by now. There was no way she was still there.

Getting back to the bar, the door was locked where he had left it unlocked, and when he entered he found the front key on the bar top next to a note that simple said, ‘packed most things, emma will be by in two days to gather the rest.”

He picked the key up off the table and stared at it. So that was it and it was over.

For good. There was no coming back from this.

\--

The next morning came too quickly, and he ignored the empty bedside to his left before getting up to get ready. Each menial task seemed lonesome – brushing his teeth alone, showering alone, and making breakfast for one instead of two.

The thought of opening the bar made him groan inwardly, working being the last thing on his mind. Soon it was eight however, and Graham appeared for work in the kitchen and Ruby appeared to help start at the bar.

By the look on her face, she knew what had happened and offered David a silent apology. Upon spotting Graham herself, she disappeared momentarily into the kitchen. It was tough when all his friends had been Maragaret’s friends as well.

Maybe they had even known about it before him, he thought miserably.

He began setting out glasses as the waiters and waitresses trickled in, Ruby suddenly grabbed the a glass out of his hand and he realized he had been staring off into space for a little longer than regular staring.

“Hey, I’ll take over the counter today. I think you need a break anyway,” she said gently, ushering him off to the side as she continued his efforts.

He tried to persuade her that the work kept his mind off of things, but when he almost dropped a glass, she said it was for ‘everyone’s benefit.’ He left without another complaint.

Walking up the many steps to the above loft and taking one look at the mess of paperwork and bills sitting on his table, he decided he might as well work through some of it. In fact, he had been doing just that when he heard an escalation of voices and a crash from below.

David took off running, climbing down the stairs in a matter of moments. What he alighted upon was a scene of confusion – a few tables were knocked over, a man was being held by the arm by Graham and another by Ruby in a full nelson.

“What the hell is going on down here?!”

The heavy-set man in Ruby’s arms was clearly drunk off his ass, but it was hardly any better for the man in Graham’s grip. “Shut up!” Ruby yelled, tightening her grip on the man in front of her before turning to address David. “I’m not sure exactly, but these two were mostly in the middle of it – should we call the police?” She sounded unsure. The man in her arms was clearly still in a violent temper, while the other was seething quietly.

“No…no. Graham, bring your car around – taken him to the station. I’ll deal with him.” David ended with a nod towards the man in Graham’s grasp before he watched him let go and stride towards the man in Ruby’s grip. He escorted him out roughly.

“Alright folks – I think we’re going to have to close up early. Come by six to nine tomorrow and drinks are on me,” he addressed the crowd loudly. What few people were still sitting began heading for the door, a few regulars waved bye, three or four even helped pick the tables up quickly before they left.

“Thanks for the help.” He shut the door quietly behind them before turning to the last man left in the bar.

“What? Are you going to keep me captive here now?” He was clearly still agitated, and although he sat in the seat without moving, David could see he was twitchy. He wondered vaguely if he was a visitor, judging by his accent.

“No I’m not – what’s your name, and maybe you can tell me what the hell happened back there?” David was angry again, but he kept a cap on it. This was not something he needed to deal with at the moment.

“Nothing much, just two men fighting for dominance, the ol’ survival of the fittest routine. Surely you’ve seen it before.” He deflected the name question. “And if you’re not going to keep me here, I’m leaving.” He stood to leave and David saw him flinch ever-so-slightly, for a half of a nanosecond.

“You’re hurt; sit down.” His anger was dispelled as he walked over quickly.

“I’m fine, fruitcake.” He made a move to push past David and he noticed suddenly and without comment that he was missing his left hand. He didn’t stare and didn’t say anything, just made to block him again. He placed a hand on his arm to keep him still.

“I would be so glad if you _stopped touching me_ ,” he seethed at David, his body tensing. He was like a wounded animal.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he said offhandedly, gesturing as though to wave off the man’s anger. He reached out and pushed lightly at the left-side of his ribcage.

“Fuck--!” He stood quickly, pushing David back.

“You’ve broken a rib and at least bruised a few others; I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“ _It’s fine_. You are annoyingly pushy for someone I’ve only just met.”

“Yeah, well if you don’t go to the hospital, I’m going to have you pay for the damages here.”

He watched as the man swept over the mess around him.

“Right…my name is Killian, Killian Jones. Don’t go falling in love with me now.”


	3. Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first time wasn't great, and Killian was a little drunk, David a little angry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, wrote this well into the night. little hinting at killian's past-- little violent. Also, they don't go all the way. just a heads up.
> 
> ALSO A HEADS UP. this is the 'M' part, so cover your eyes or skip to the next chapter if you'd prefer not reading. c:
> 
> EDIT;; so i fixed this up a bit and WOO-WEE, was it a mess. i apologize! i'll try to get through and edit the others as well, but let's try and keep in mind that the writing mood strikes me at awful and inexplicable times, meaning no reading over & immediate posting. thanks for reading!

Their first time was rough, and David was sure Killian was a little drunk and a lot of angry. He had come in hissing and fuming. He seemed to have forgotten David was shut up in the bedroom, ill with a bad cold and getting some paperwork done. It seemed as though he was always doing paperwork. Either way, Killian didn't care.

He pushed his way into the bedroom, closing the door abruptly behind him. He was disheveled, a bruise was forming near his left eye and he was seething silently. David knew what he was waiting for-- he was looking for an opening to attack. What was worse was he was looking to _be_ attacked; he wanted a fight. He always did this when he was angry. When he was drunk it was especially bad. David didn't know where the anger came from, but he always pushed and pushed and pushed him away-- he'd never told David how exactly he'd lost his hand, the only thing David knew was that he had lost something far worse at the same time; that had really only been a guess, and he couldn't squeeze another detail from him.

"Money makes the world go 'round," Killian eyed David's bills with a grin on his face before continuing, "No wonder your girl left you. Couldn't hold down a real job? Falling further into debt. A fuck up, a screw up, what a waste." He wasn't standing perfectly straight, and he pushed off the door behind him before taking a few purposeful strides forward.

But David had already been in a sour mood with a fuse quick to light, and Killian lost what little filter he had over his mouth when he was drunk. He wouldn't walk free this time; he had crossed a line.

He pushed himself back from the desk, closing the distance between Killian and him in a few steps; his hand went directly for his neck, and he felt himself spilling loose from the seams that held onto whatever remained of his head. A voice in his head told him not to do anything rash and warning bell rang. That was when Killian's face broadened into a crooked smile. 

"Don't you _dare_ drag Mary Margaret into this." His voice was acid, each word spat and emphasized. His hand tightened and Killian laughed and struggled against the wall, the fingers on his right hand stubbornly avoiding pulling at David's hand.

"Poor fucking Charming. Where's your princess? No longer in the castle-- she got tired of waiting. She's moved onto bigger and better things," he laughed loudly.

David whipped his arm back, releasing it's death-grip hold, and swung back to crack his knuckles solidly across Killian's jaw. He would be lying if he said it didn't _really fucking hurt_ , but Killian doubled over and immediately shut up, which David was glad for. That was, until Killian looked up again, a smirk across his face, blood dripping from his lip and staining his teeth. That was, until he saw a sort of resignation in the hunch of his shoulders when he stood again, the way his eyes flitted to look just past David instead of at him; he could tell he was immediately sober.

"Why...? Why do you always have to fuck things up?" David's voice was quiet and angry, a hand rubbing at his forehead in frustration, his other hand clenching and unclenching; he was flickering between regret and a need to punch Killian again, and harder.

"Because _I'm a fuck up_. I'm no fucking good, and never will be," Killian hissed, and before David could respond, he was crowding in, pushing him back. His left arm reached up, pinning his collarbone, his other hand gripped in what he could grasp of David's hair, tugging roughly as he pushed and pushed and pushed him until he was crowded against the opposite wall, not pausing before crushing their mouths together and biting his way inside.

Killian tasted like booze and alcohol and that was familiar. The iron tang of his blood filled his senses as well, and David thought he probably ought to be incredibly disgusted, but wasn't. He was however, still pissed. He pushed his tongue inside to explore Killian's mouth, battling him momentarily for control, licking at his split lip in apology, biting at it in anger.

He pulled his face back, keeping them only an inch apart. Their breathing was hard and fast and he drunk in the view of Killian -- his split lip, cracked and bleeding, the bruise forming on his jaw, the one next to his eye that he didn't recognize from a fist not his own. He leaned forward and pushed a kiss to it lightly, working his way down his bruised jawline, each kiss growing rougher than the last. Killian's right hand moved to both cup and push back at David's face in annoyance.

"That hurts, you twat."

"I know."

David gripped him by the front of his shirt and flipped them, pushing Killian bruisingly against the wall. Killian took it to rightfully mean he was still pissed, but it was something he felt he could live with at the moment, though he didn't much like not being in control. 

David sucking down the opposite side of Killian's mouth and cheek before working his way down his neck, sucking and nipping and biting when it pleased him. Killian allowed it for the moment, reveled in it. When David's hand began rubbing at his shirt, pressing his palm repeatedly against Killian's left nipple he decided to speed things along a bit; David was new to all of this. Being with another man wasn't exactly the same as being with a women, so perhaps a bit of _guidance_ was warranted. 

He weaved his arms around David's back suddenly and pulled roughly, pushing himself forward in time, slotting them together painfully and wonderfully.

"Ahh--!" David leaned into Killian's neck, breathing short breaths, and sucking on the warm skin between gasps. They rocked together, Killian's groin meeting David's thigh as he ground himself on Killian in desperation. 

Killian slipped his hand under the hem of David's shirt, dipping below the edge of his pants and playing at the elastic hem he found. David groaned at the sensation of Killian's cold fingers against...David's abnormally warm skin. Even feverishly warm? It occurred to him suddenly _why_ David had been holed up in his room.

Of course he would have forgotten that David was sick. 

"Mmmm, let the Doctor take care of it?" The question was rhetorical and he didn't wait before moving, pushing David back ever so slightly and slipping his hand beneath the elastic band. He fumbled for a moment before gripping David's length and tugging lightly. David let out a choked noise, his eyes shut and his hands braced on either side of Killian's body. He liked the expressions David was making, savored them -- he kissed the side of his face softly.

Walking David back into the bed, he collapsed backwards and Killian properly pulled him out of his pants; he was quite skilled with one hand. He considered going down, but when he made the slightest movement downwards, David reached up and took his chin in his hand, tilting his head back upwards before running a thumb lightly across his sore lip in reminder.

"What's a little pain?" He grinned; it was almost a grimace.

"As the 'patient,' I disagree." David's hands ran down Killian's back, sliding up his shirt, and with assistance, stripping it off. Killian shrugged and let it go-- he didn't particularly _like_ doing it anyway. David's hand continued down again and he fumbled at the button of his jeans.

"Leave it," Killian hissed, his hand suddenly stopping mid-motion. 

David let out a groan of frustration before giving him a questioning look.

"This is new and you're sick; leave it." His voice was cold and serious, and to emphasize the point, he began moving his hand again, slow and hard.

"You...are an ahhh--," Killian twisted teasingly, "ass." He was having a difficult time forming a coherent sentence, but not once did his hands leave the button of Killian's pants.

"I _want_ to touch you, so just let me." He began pulling at the button again. Killian tugged-- hard, pumping him strongly up and down three times, his thumb nestled in the crease in the underside of his head. David's face crumpled and Killian sped up his movement, swiping his fingers under David's balls just in time to feel them tighten and holding him through his orgasm. He thrusted up into Killian's grip, and he didn't still his hand until he had crested and waned, feeling him soften again before letting go. 

The clear matter of himself throbbed painfully inside his own tight jeans, and and he stood to move to the bathroom when a hand gripped his wrist.

"If you're feeling guilty from earlier...don't. I took it out on your face already." He sat up, pulling Killian until he stood between his knees. "I know you won't tell me _why_ you always do this, but you will. I trust you." 

Killian didn't move when David undid his button and pulled him from his pants, just let out a sigh of relief, not a single other word. He didn't agree with David or disagree or even qualify it. He simply said nothing as David began hesitantly. His hands were jerkish and off time, and simetimes a little too tight and a little too fast, but perfect all the same and he wondered if he'd ever be able to let go of David after this or if he might just burn the heart out of him.

"You are fucking awful at this," he said, bracing himself on David's shoulders.

"I know."


	4. Oh How Our Words Hurt Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A close call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that literally all I can write for this pairing is angsty fighting. I don't know why, it just seems like they have a really good tension. I'll try to write a happier one next time! Also sorry if they sound OC-- I tried to keep them IC, but I sort of need to re-watch some of Killian's episodes again, haha.
> 
> Again, not proofread. If anyone wants to edit, I'll give credit, but for now, they will have to wait until I have more time.

David's things were gone-- his toothbrush, his clothes, the messy stack of paper lining Killian's already-cluttered desk, the shoes from behind the door, even the beer was gone. It had been a decision then. It was purposeful and resolute. David knew Killian would have noticed that he had taken his beer with him when he left.

No, so they weren't exactly living together. Many sleepovers, surprisingly mostly comprised of the literal kind; oftentimes David tired and overworked, dropped by unannounced while Killian was already asleep, just to crawl into bed with him. He never even breached the distance, as though afraid to wake him. Killian was never asleep when David came in, but he never breached the distance either, just listened until David fell asleep. 

And maybe it had been his fault this time, but David was the one being the bloody hypocrite. 'You never talk to me! I don't know what's going on in your head half the time!' He had said, and here he had up and gone without once speaking a word. That fucker wouldn't be let off this easily. It didn't work that way and it never would. David could leave when he bloody well said he could leave, and that would be when it was said directly to his face. Killian wanted words, broiling and fiery, not actions which seemed cowardly and demeaning. Through all their shouting, he'd earned that at least.

It was already one in the morning, as often their fights took place late at night. The neighbors who had to deal with it were either too charmed by David or too threatened by Killian to ever report them. He didn't honestly care, really.

That being said, the bar door was locked. Killian had a key of course, both to the bar and the loft. David knew this, so perhaps he hadn't-- no. His bike was parked around the corner, he could spot angled haphazardly, an empty egg crate laying abandoned at it's side. This only served to re-ignite Killian's anger, though.

He took the stairs in threes, jammed the key in the lock and practically ripped the door off it's hinge in his haste to get it open. 

"What the hell are you doing?!" David's voice came from the couch, and he looked up from where his head had been hanging in his hands. His eyes were red-rimmed, but they brightened visibly as his anger flared to life.

"Don't you think that should be my line?" Killian's voice was seething and low, his words spat with such force and momentum, he wasn't surprised when David visibly flinched.

"I don't think you have a right to--"

"Don't. You. Dare. Tell me what I have and don't have a right to do-- I think I had a right to fucking proper goodbye instead of just arriving home to a vacated house." Killian's feet didn't seem to touch the floor as he crossed the room. He kept his hands at his sides, but his fingers on his right hand clenched and unclenched repeatedly in frustration. He had never hit David before, but it was staring into the fire behind his eyes that provoked him to want to. He battled sorely with the urge.

There was no sarcasm in his voice, no witty retorts. Just anger and maybe a little abandonment and loss. He didn't deal with loss well.

David grabbed him by the front of his shirt suddenly, and pulled Killian so close, he thought he was going to kiss him. 

"You-you broke up...with me," were what came out instead, and reflected back from David's eyes were Killian's own feelings of confusion, anger and betrayal. David's grip was strong ad tight, but the words had start shaky before tapering off into a whispered shout. He was stood back, panicked and distressed. Killian had seen angry, he had seen sad and panicked-- he'd never seem David so _hopeless_.

For the first time ever, Killian deflated.

"I didn't-- fuck," He pulled out of David's grip before continuing, "I say things that I don't hear or mean when I'm pissed. I'm not--."

"Fuck you." The words sounds foreign in David's voice. His finger is pointed accusingly and his face is hardened. Killian would almost buy it asides from the look in his eyes.

"David, listen to me."

"Ha, it's a bit late for that," but he doesn't continue talking. Instead, he walks off to the bedroom and promptly slams the door. Killian takes it as a good sign he hadn't just thrown him out instead. Killian knows from firsthand experience that he's more than capable and half an hour later when the Killian pushed the door open, he wasn't surprised to find David still sitting, hunched over, where he inevitably had perched when he'd first entered the room.

David didn't looked up even as Killian sat down beside him. He moved slowly and cautiously. David let him. 

He reached out and touched his back lightly. David tensed immediately, but again didn't move.

"I get it. I fucked up." He didn't say anything more, but it was still enough. David's posture softened and he pulled himself back to clearly look at Killian.

"Yeah you did, you asshole...but I did too. I pushed the subject and I shouldn't have...I'm so sorry."

Killian didn't say anything, instead letting his hand drift to the nape of David's neck and tugging him forward lightly. David leaned into him, resting his forehead in the crook of Killian's neck and Killian rubbed soft circles with his thumb pad into David's nape.

"So this means you'll move your things back in again, right?"

"Don't push it," David said with a light scoff. He sat back and peeled off his t-shirt and jeans, sliding into bed without another word. Killian had always noticed how David acted without explanation or notice. He'd always love the spontaneity of it. Killian followed after, also pulling off his shoes before sliding into the bed and clicking off the beside lamp. It was only silent a moment before he began talking.

"You know you're loud as hell whenever you come over. Not at all as stealthy as you think you are, you prick."

"I know."

So David had known Killian was awake whenever he came over. Killian wasn't all too sure he liked that response. So the space between them had been on purpose, then. 

David seemed to know-- as he always did --when Killian was thinking to hard about something. Partially because Killian never shut up and partially because he especially never shut up mid conversation. He turned over before sliding across the bed to where Killian lay on his back, leaning into his shoulder before settling down again to sleep, which he'd almost achieved before Killian began speaking again.

"I'm sorry."

"I know," David whispered back after a drowsy pause, "go to sleep."


	5. Forget about It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian can be soft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promised something that wasn't angsty-- and i lied! it's been a while since i've updated, but just letting you all know i haven't forgotten. i would really like to get around to editing these chapters so they're a little bit more bearable to read, but i have a short attention span, sadly.
> 
> so here is another unedited, short story-blip.

Killian woke up to an empty bed. David had stayed the night, but usually popped up before the crack of dawn to get breakfast and coffee started. He knew exactly how grumpy Killian could be in the morning. Or all the time. Whatever.

This time was odd though. As Killian made his way to the kitchen, he noted that there seemed to be an absence of any sound. Upon arriving in the kitchen, he reallized it was simply because no one was there. That was strange. Killian found himself bristling slightly. David never left without saying goodbye or leaving a note of some sort. Not unless he was angry or distressed, and Killian was...well, Killian wasn't actually positive if David wasn't angry, but he was almost sure he hadn't done anything wrong this time. 

Instead of waiting or calling in advance, Killian dragged on some clean clothes and headed out for David's place. He had a policy of confronting all issues head on and leaping without looking first.

Arriving at the shop, the door was locked and he didn't bother letting himself in. David wasn't there, it was obvious. Something had happened, and apparently no one had bothered to contact him. Of course, just as he thought that, his phone chirped. Ruby was on the other end, talking immediately as he picked up. 

"Don't speak," she paused as though to make sure Killian wouldn't, and there was a tone in her voice that bode bad. He opened his mouth to interrupt, but she pushed on. "David is in a bad place right now-- He's not hurt. His dad is in the hospital and...and it- it doesn't look good Killian."

"And he didn't think to mention it before he disappeared this morning?" His words were ice, but Ruby seemed to detect the undertone of worry.

"Look, I'm sure he had his reasons. Don't pressure him right now, okay? Give him time," she said soothingly. "Seriously, Killian." She tacked on more bluntly. She had learned him well in the few months David and him had been dating. 

"Right." he hung up without another word before hopping back in his car and heading back to his place. It would be a lie to say he wasn't a tad bit bitter, but it faded as an hour and then another rolled by slowly. 

Nothing got done. Not even a simulation of work. Killian's phone sat near his right hand where it rested on the couch, and a warm beer in his left where it would remain unfinished. He had almost fallen asleep when his phone rang. He didn't look at the name on the caller ID, just answered it quickly, a desperation to his voice he wouldn't be quick to admit to.

"Yes?"

"600 Mendin Street," David's voice sounded fatigued, he was about to continue but Killian cut him off.

"I'll come pick you up."

"Okay." 

The phone clicked shut and Killian stood and was out the door in the fraction of a second. He drove quickly and extremely fast, which probably wasn't the best idea in the traffic he was currently swamped in, but it didn't make him pause for a moment. He wasn't sure what his emotions were at the moment, but they were a forethought. He pushed them to the back of his mind. That was extremely difficult for someone like Killian, someone whom had had very little regard to anyone's well-being past his own for so long.

Although they had been in a relationship for months, it had suddenly become real. A tangible thing with real people with real problems and emotions involved, and it meant a level of commitment Killian wasn't entirely sure he was still capable of. But this was David, and that meant he was going to try no matter what. He would force it to work if he had to.

He pulled up to the parking lot and immediately spotted David, who had also spotted him. He got in the car silently, a murmured 'thanks' the only spoken word between them for the twenty minute drive. Killian didn't speak, and only shot the occasional look from the corner of his eye at David. He didn't look sad, he just looked exhausted and empty.

Killian drove them to David's loft, and without asking, followed him inside. He watched as David quietly set about his business, arranging papers and putting away some of the things that cluttered the kitchen table.

"Aye, you going to ever speak again?" 

David ignored him, continuing to bustle around the kitchen table aimlessly. Suddenly he stopped, leaning over the sink, both arms braced. 

He wasn't crying, and nothing seemed to really change. He had just stopped.

Killian made his way around the table, coming up behind David where he gently tugged at his right wrist, getting David to pull it back from the sink. Killian rested his left arm across his David's hip, keeping any actual weight off of it. His body hover over David's. He leaned in close to David's ear and brushed his fingertips gently back across his temple.

"Come on love, let's head up to bed." He paid no mind to the fact that it was only five in the afternoon.


	6. to my own devices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> killian gets himself hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, unedited! you all thought i'd forgotten--well, surprise!
> 
> except not really, because it's just more angst. i know that i'm terrible at this, and i apologize. i just like to write cute, comforting moments. argh. someone send me a prompt!

Killian gripped the edge of the gurney tightly, his knuckles pearling white, his breath shaking and heavy in the mask they'd planted on his face. It was infuriating, and it was all overwhelming. And worst of all, as he bled out on his trundling coffin, he knew it had been his fault.

The last few nights had been hard. The anniversary he quietly tried to forget forced his eyes open at night...caused his dreams to turn malevolent...caused his heart to feel crused under a ton of bricks. 

It causedhim to be past tired one hi return from working late into the night at the tattoo parlor, and it caused his heavy lids to shut. Just for a moment, it had been. When he'd awoken, he'd been pried from the wreckage and everything had smelled of ash and fire and fear.

But all he felt now was a swell of anger, and it rose and rose. It wasn't panic, he promised himself as they pulled the bed from the back of the ambulance. It wasn't, it was just that...

Hospitals were ugly.

And they stirred something in him that wanted to rest, and that something moved through his body like a dull ache of a tidal wave.

They were white and blinding and numbing and cold and _she_ had went there and _she_ had never returned. Each day, she had only gotten worse and worse, and those white walls had started to close in on their time, and death had creeped in around every corner and maybe it wasn't hate at all that he felt--

Perhaps it was simply his turn. The white walls seemed to squeeze shut around him, and his eyes slipped shut as his breathing shallowed. David would be so pissed.

\----

David awoke to the sharp trill of his cell phone. He hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep in one of the comfortable recliners Killian had helped him pick out until he'd realised his apartment was supposed to be filled with air, and not at the bottom of the ocean as it had been in the dream.

He answered on the second ring.

"Hello?" He asked, rubbing a palm at his eyes, pulling the tiredness from behind them.

A moment later, he was starkly awake.

"I'm on my way." His voice was pulled tight within him. He swallowed several times, but none of it helped. He grabbed a coat and was out the door in a flurry. His shaking hands were almost unable to fumble the keys into the ignition on his bike, and he almostforgot completely to put on his helmet, but shoved it on last minute before he tore off down the road.

It didn't matter, really, how fast or slow he went. The person on the other end had said he was going into surgery almost immediately upon entering the hospital, and was to stay there for a few hours before he would come out the otherside-- battered, beaten, bruised but whole. David didn't slow his pace.

He made it to the hospital in record time, waiting to check in only to wait to be seated in the waiting room where he waited and waited. Half an hour in, Ruby showed up. David wasn't sure how she had found out, but Ruby seemed to always know when someone needed her. She sat close to David's side, a hand coming to rest on his upper back where he'd hunched himself over. At first she didn't speak, just let the seconds and then minutes and then hours tick by in silence. 

She was a silent comfort, and David leaned into her without really noticing he had.

A doctor came out to update them on the progress...internal hemmoraghing...broken ribs, fractured arm...clavicle...David's mind didn't process any of it. None of it aside from when the doctor had said there was a good chance of him pulling through the surgery, but they would have to wait and see how he did after he woke up. David didn't register when the doctor had left again either, words like whispers and footsteps like murmurs.

...

"-avid...David." He felt himself roused from a visionless sleep. Ruby's hand was slight against his cheek, his other cheek rested on her shoulder where he must have fallen asleep. He wondered how long he'd been out and how sore Ruby's arm was-- when he sat up, she didn't complain either way. A doctor stood in front of the two, clearly waiting for David to have woken before speaking.

"I can take you to him now." He said gently. 

David looked confusedly at the clock above and realised with a start that it was already 6 am. He had been asleep for three hours.

He wasted no time in standing to follow the doctor, but paused to look back at Ruby in question. She nodded her head, as though to say he should go ahead, and he pulled a tight-lipped smile, although he felt a little like crying.

They arrived at the room, and the doctor nodded before leaving him be. David croaked a 'thank you' in return, his throat dry, before walking into the room. His eyes were averted, looking to the walls, the machines, the floor before he knew he had gathered himself just enough to keep himself together. That was, he though he gathered himself enough, but the sight of Killian pulled all the tension from his throat and back and it pulled from him tears he would never admit to.

He sat at the side of the bed, pulling the chair close, his fingers feathered by Killian's hand, afraid to touch him or to break him. He leaned his head towards him, his eyes shutting, soaking in the presence of Killian. The beep of the heart monitor, the 'psshh' of the air mask. He wanted it to sound like Killian-- familiar and comforting --but it sounded like cold, metallic and dead.

"Hey." The voice was muffled, but David looked up immediately, pulling closer to Killian, his hands, still settled by his arm, shaking. He tried to still them with no success.

"Can you get this mask off me? I'd do it myself, but fuck, everything hurts." David moved up, hands still shaking, and pulled the mask from Killian's face. He noticed his eyes were still closed, but he didn't comment. He couldn't speak, and he wasn't sure why. 

"You look like shit." Killian's eyes were finally open, and they squinted at him. David didn't move, just hovered and shook. He didn't know what to do. He suddenly felt panicked, even though he knew for the most part the danger had passed. His fingers shook gently against Killian's right arm.

"David, please say something, you're scaring me." It was supposed to be a joke. David was sure Killian had meant it to sound like a joke, but it had instead sounded like the truth.

"Sorry." The word was choked.

"If anyone here looks like shit, it's you." He forced himself to speak, to joke, lighten it the way Killian wanted him to lighten it. How he wanted everything to seem okay when it wasn't, because fuck it all, he'd almost lost him. David's smile faltered, and he sat suddenly, his face angled into the crook of Killian's neck and shoulder, his fingers pushing to gain hold around Killian's wrist-- his shaking was incessant and it was then that he noticed Killian was shaking as well. David took a shaky breath.

"You bastard."

"I know." A pause. "David, look at me."

David tilted his head up, red-rimmed and soured eyes looking into Killian's tired blue ones.

"It'll be okay, love."

"I should be the one reassuring you." David pressed out, his chest still tight, but starting to loosen. Loosen because this was Killian, and he wasn't cold and he wasn't metallic-- he was familiar and warm.

"Well, you're not doing a very fine job of it." 

"That's because you're an idiot who almost got himself killed. There aren't many things to say to someone like that." David's tone was sharp, like he was only half-joking. It wasn't fair, he knew, to be angry at Killian for almost dying-- he had learned that lesson that hard way, he was sure. Telling himself that didn't ease the burn in his chest however.

"You won't get rid of me that easily. Come here, you look tired." Killian's right hand brushed up David's side, a butterfly touch on the side of his face before he pulled on the collar of David's jacket impatiently.

"I thought that your arm hurt." David asked as he pulled the chair much closer so he was able to lean into Killian comfortable and unobtrusively.

"Oh shut up, it's the other arm." 

David brushed a hand against Killian's jaw, leaning in again to press his face into the crook between his neck and shoulder. It was the only place he could comfortably reach without putting too much pressure on Killian himself. Killian rested his hand on the back of David's neck, and before long his breathing had gone shallow and even.

David stayed until he was sure it wouldn't stop.


	7. little comforts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dinner out, spilled secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's like i've suddenly rediscovered how much i love this pair.
> 
> this wasn't supposed to be angst, but it all makes it's way there eventually.
> 
> again, un-beta'd.

"Come on, can't you just--humor me?" David didn't like to phrase it quite like that, but he knew Killian wasn't likely to agree unless he could pin the idea as being 'not his own'.

"Fine," he paused, David mused for dramatic effect, before adding, "Just don't go overboard." He didn't look up from the large piece of canvas he had splayed over his drawing desk. David leaned down over his back to press a smile against his temple, to which Killian replied by dragging his eyes away from his sketch for a moment to glare in response.

David, however, was elated. Killian almost never agreed to a date, whether he had an excuse handy or not.

\---

"Killian, you're making us late." David pressed, calling out to the stairs Killian had yet to appear from. His eyes glanced to the clock on the wall in Killian's kitchen. He'd arrived twenty minutes before they were due for their reservation at a nice restaurant in town. It was drawing close to a fifteen minute wait, and he knew the drive was ten minutes minimum if they hurried.

"Yes, yes, I know. I doubt they'll mind if we're a few minutes late, David." 

His voice was closer, and David heard the tell-tale thumping of his feet on the stairs. He grabbed Killian's keys from the hook before turning to greet Killian.

He was dressed dark, and although not formal, it was clear he had at least put in some effort. His hair was pushed neatly into place, and he wore a dress shirt and tie, though they were paired with simple dark jeans and smart shoes. He was wearing a leather jacket over the top that David thought he recognized, but only vaguely. He had bothered to clean up his usually dark and unruly facial hair as well. David couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked when he put in the effort.

David himself was wearing a fitted grey suit and dress pants. He wore no tie, and left on a single button down the middle of the suit jacket pinned.

Before he could open his mouth to make any sort of comment on Killian's dress though, Killian had strode across th room and pulled him down into a rough kiss. 

"Keep whatever smart comment you were about to make in your head." He turned towards the door, feigned annoyance in his voice, but a light, playful smile ghosting his lips. "And you look nice," he added after taking a few steps and turning again and eyeing David up and down. David felt his ears burn slightly, and he smiled.

"Thank you, but I think we should probably head out now that you've made us sufficiently late." He raised his eyebrows before heading to the door ahead of Killian and opening it ahead of him.

The keys he offered were snatched from his hands as Killian walked past-- he had a thing about other people driving his car.

\---

The drive over was pleasant, and they managed to edge it in under a ten minute drive, meaning they were only about five minutes late to their reservation.

The waiter led them to a nice spot near the center of the restaurant after confirming his reservation under 'Nolan'. Once they were seated, they ordered a nice red wine and their meals-- David noted with annoyance that the waiter kept glancing at Killian's left arm.

Once he disappeared, he tried to keep it from his face, but Killian slid his eyes over David's face and read him in an instant.

"Humans are curious creatures, David. Besides, it doesn't bother me anymore." David opened his mouth to say something on the contrary, but Killian just smiled, effectively silencing him. He didn't feel much better about it, but the rest of the night was nice enough to let it be forgotten. 

The waiter's drawn eye continued to wear at him throughout the evening though, in multiple ways. It no longer annoyed him, as Killian kept pushing him away from, but...David himself found himself curious as well. Which only succeeded in making him annoyed with himself.

The bill was paid, adamantly by David whom had insisted on the whole date to begin with, and soon they left the restaurant, sitting in the car and talking for a few minutes before starting the engine.

David's glance swept breezily over Killian's left hand, and he immediately deflected his gaze out the window. He felt irritation growing in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't his place, yet he wanted Killian to tell him. He wanted all of his secrets. He wanted to know all there was and would be to Killian, but some things were unspeakable.

David knew that better than anyone.

"There was an accident." David looked over towards Killian, startled. He was looking out the window, knuckles stark white against the steering wheel as he spoke. "I experimented a lot with drugs when I was younger. I was only just getting my life back together when I met you." Killian seemed to be fighting through the words, as though it had just happened yesterday. David wanted to say something to comfort him, but it didn't seem like he was finished yet.

"There was an accident. I lost my wife and my hand." Killian didn't go any further, just reached over to switch on the ignition. 

David didn't speak...he wasn't sure what was swirling in the pit of his stomach, but it was an ugly emotion. Pity, he was sure. Pity he knew Killian would never have wanted. So instead, he didn't speak, just waited until the car ride was over and they stood on the front steps of Killian house.

He leaned in, his fingers ghosting along Killian's jaw, leaning in and kissing him gently. Killian returned it, gentle and soft. His hand reached up, thumb brushing to corner of David's mouth, pressing another gently kiss there before he turned and unlocked the door to his house.

David didn't push him, and didn't push the issue, though he felt a little heartsick in the oddest of ways. He had almost turned to leave, when Killian turned back again, door open to him.

"Coming in, love?" His tone was soft, and underneath there was a tenor of need.

"I don't have-" It wasn't a rejection, just a hesitation. A question. _Are you sure?_ Before he could finish though, Killian cut him off.

"I'll find you something to wear." He turned from the doorway, leaving the door agape.


End file.
